


we're a flame in the wind (not the fire that we've begun)

by reachedthebitterend



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, slightly hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 06:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachedthebitterend/pseuds/reachedthebitterend
Summary: sequel to 'we both know the way that this story ends'





	we're a flame in the wind (not the fire that we've begun)

**Author's Note:**

> written 04/25/19

Michael dreams that he’s tending to a campfire in the middle of the desert.

At first it’s easy, the air is dry and cool, the twigs are dry and catch the flame easily.

Then the breeze picks up, and it gets a little harder.

Then it starts to rain, sudden and hard, feeling like hail, and dousing the flames quickly.

It goes as quickly as it came and Michael is left stoking the wet mulch finding a coal right in the heart of it still burning bright.

Michael spends a long time trying to keep it alive, and then just like that, there’s a spark and the flames catch, bright and fast, spreading too rapidly for him to contain.

He falls back feeling the warmth all along his front and smiling at the way the flames soar high.

The fire becomes temperamental for a few long moments which should have been a warning. Soaring and sinking too fast for Michael to keep up, forcing him to come closer and run back in equal measures.

Michael looks away as it burns bright and then falls like a departing wave and he can just make out a soft beacon in the distance.

He feels cold all of a sudden and looks down at the campfire that looks like it might go out for good this time.

Michael looks back up and the beacon shines just a little bit brighter and then the campfire explodes sending Michael flying backwards.

Michael falls back harder than before and the heat is _searing _and too much. He scrambles back, blinking his eyes wide seeing nothing but spots it color, blinded by the bright fire.

He staggers to his feet and turns around blinking rapidly trying to get his bearings.

He can feel the heat at his back and it’s comforting in a familiar sense, but the cool breeze brushes against the front of his face where he feels raw and aching like an exposed nerve.

He shuts his eyes tight for a few seconds and when he opens them again with the bonfire at his back, the view is just dim enough that he can make out the soft beacon in the distance.

It grows a little brighter when Michael notices that it’s there.

Even as the heat against his back grows hotter, Michael takes a step towards the beacon in the distance.

The second his foot touches the ground he stumbles falling to his knees and the bonfire goes out suddenly, like it never existed.

Michael blinks towards where he’d seen the beacon, only to see it beginning to dim.

Michael inhales sharply and is surrounded in darkness. A cold feeling fills his chest as he falls to the side and he closes his eyes as all of the lights go out.

***

Michael wakes up startled, hands pressed to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beat and the warmth pouring from his skin.

He sighs sitting up in his bed and turning, resting his feet on the floor as he drops his head down low between his shoulders, elbows resting on his knees.

The dream isn’t new. He’s had it several times in the last couple of weeks since Alex ran away again and he couldn’t give Maria an honest answer when she asked him, “Are you still in love with Alex?”

He sighs and looks out the window, blinking at the dark sky and wondering what the hell he was going to do until the sun came up when there is a flurry of knocking on his door, sounding impatient, as though it’s not the first time.

Michael sighs and just wraps his sheet around his hips.

If someone is going to come and wake him up at this time then they should be prepared to expect anything.

He pushes the door open with a thought and freezes.

Alex is standing on the other side.

Michael remembers vividly the last time that he saw Alex.

He looked vulnerable and flayed open in his baggy sweats and loose shirt, damp hair soaking his collar, ready to shatter if Michael continued to touch him.

Alex looks nothing like that standing in front of him after weeks of pulling a disappearing act and only keeping in contact with Valenti.

His hair seems longer, or at least messier. His clothes tighter and in darker tones than Michael has seen on him since high school. He’s standing at attention, but wears it better now than he ever did when he was still a part of the service.

Michael’s gaze is drawn to the black leather cord around his neck and it’s stopped, like a car hitting a brick wall at top speed by the dark splotch the necklace is pressed against that is undeniably a hickey.

Michael clenches his fists tight in the sheet he has wrapped around his hips and swallows hard.

Alex’s gaze darts all over him and he looks away clearing his throat and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Michael drags his gaze away from his neck and concentrates on the way the flush works it’s way across Alex’s cheeks.

Michael clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were back.”

“I just crossed the city limits minutes ago,” Alex said licking his lips and looking a little nervous. “I came straight here. I need to ask you something.”

Michael licks his lips and feels a little too vulnerable to be having this conversation without any clothes on.

“Can I get dressed first?” he asks with a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Alex’s eyes dart back to him, and he sees the way they drop lower and lower until he looks hurriedly away.

He turns towards the lawn chairs. “I’ll be over here.”

Michael watches him walk towards the chairs, and lets his gaze linger.

He doesn’t know what Alex wants, or even if he’s willing to give it to him, but he’ll listen to him, because he always will.

Michael ducks into the trailer and throws the sheet back on his bed, grabbing the first pair of jeans he finds and slipping them on.

He looks out of the window and sees that Alex is starting a fire and shedding off his leather jacket.

He feels hope like a flickering candle in his chest, and he blows it out quickly turning away from the window.

He grabs the first clean smelling shirt he can find and slips it over his head as he makes his way out the door.

He reaches out towards his truck with one hand and handle of whiskey flies out of the open window. It flies right by Alex’s ear before finding itself in Michael’s outstretched hand.

Alex just inhales sharply, looking at Michael carefully as he tips some whiskey into his mouth while taking a seat across from Alex.

He offers the bottle in his direction, but Alex just shakes his head before he’s leaning forward, warming his hands.

Michael licks his and remembers that Alex runs colder nowadays.

He clears his throat twice and swallows another mouthful of whiskey before he speaks.

“You said you had something to ask?” he questions and Alex looks up from the fire to Michael’s face. “I told you. I’ll answer anything you want to know.”

Alex’s gaze drops down to the collar of his shirt and he licks his bottom lip before he’s looking away closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

“Listen,” he says looking back at Michael, eyes shuttered. “I finally cracked the last of the hard drives that we got from Caulfield, and I found something.”

Michael freezes, bottle pressed against his lips.

“But I think it’s going to take more than just me and you to make the choice about what to do this time. I think we need to tell Max and Isobel.”

Michael looks at Alex for a long time, before he takes the drink and lowers the bottle down.

“What are you asking? Permission to tell everyone else?”

Alex purses his mouth and looks away. “I’m asking this because I’ve been working so hard trying to figure this out for _you_. To see if I can find _you _some sort of closure. You’re the one who lost their mother. I don’t care about what Max or Isobel would want or think. I just know that _you do_. So, do you want them involved? Or we can just go from here?”

Michael leans back in his seat and eyes Alex in the light of the fire.

He leans back in his seat too, mirroring Michael’s movements and staring back.

Now that Michael isn’t distracted by the clothes or the hickey, he can see how tired Alex is, how the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hair looks like he was electrocuted are more than just a fashion statement.

He looks like he had an epiphany and drove miles to tell Michael all about it and something about that makes Michael feel the warmth from the flicker of hope lighting up in his chest again.

“You look like you need a nap.”

Alex huffs out a laugh and it sounds tired.

“I’ve been working nonstop on trying to figure this out. On top of my actual job. I don’t think I’ve had a decent nights sleep in _months _let alone the last couple of weeks.”

He’s leaning back with his legs splayed as he tips his head back and looks up at the sky.

The hickey on his neck catches Michael’s attention like a beacon.

He licks his lips takes a large swallow from the whiskey to stop himself from talking.

“That mark on your neck says you found some time to play,” Michael finds himself saying and closes his eyes.

He swallows down another mouthful and when he opens his eyes, Alex is looking at him.

Specifically at the bite mark that Michael can still feel throbbing on his shoulder.

Michael pulls his lips into his mouth and shrugs looking away.

He never claimed that he wasn’t a hypocrite. Especially when it came to Alex.

Alex laughs in disbelief and Michael hears him moving in his seat.

“I really don’t owe you any explanations about what or _who _I decide to do in the free time where I’m not working or hacking into files to decode encrypted information to help you figure out who you are and where you come from.”

“I never asked you to do that,” Michael snaps feeling a hot spark of anger lighting up inside of him. He looks back to Alex who is leaning forward in his seat, eyes bright with anger.

“You didn’t have to,” Alex snaps. “I’m doing it because it’s the least that I can do to make up for all the wrongs my family has done.”

Michael furrows his brow and shakes his head. “I don’t blame you-” he starts leaning forward in his seat as well.

“Well I do,” Alex says and his voice shakes and breaks. “No one is else is going to care, Guerin. I’m the only one who does who can do this. So it’s what I’m going to do for you. Because-”

“We’re family,” Michael says voice quiet and tense as he watches Alex intently trying to figure him out.

Alex gives him a soft smile and nods his head before he’s looking away.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Alex says after a moment where he looks at Michael and Michael stares back. “I’m tired of fighting with you.”

“Why did you come here, Alex?” Michael asks leaning back in his chair, feeling tired. “You could’ve called. You do have my number.”

Alex mirrors him again leaning back and looking up at the sky.

“I wanted to see you,” Alex tells the stars, voice low and soft.

Michael looks at the bottle in his hands and swallows the rest of it in one long swallow.

He gasps as it burns and watches as Alex rests his hands on his stomach, fingers pressed close together as he continues to look up.

“Did it work?” Michael asks and his voice sounds rough.

He clears his throat hard twice, while Alex’s gaze drops from the sky back to Michael.

He tilts his head and furrows his brow at him.

“What?” he asks when Michael just continues to watch him.

Michael thinks that maybe he’s also a masochist when it comes to Alex because he needs to know. Even if Alex is over him and left a warm apartment behind with someone warming his bed wherever it was that he’d disappeared to, Michael needs to know no matter how much it will hurt.

“You said you needed time and space and distance,” Michael says feeling the flame inside of his chest flicker as Alex’s face goes blank and he looks back up at the sky.

“So did it work?” he finishes looking away and trying to remember if he has more alcohol stashed anywhere nearby.

Alex is quiet for so long that Michael considers going inside and breaking into his emergency acetone supply.

“I tried really hard you know,” he says voice so low that Michael shouldn’t be able to hear him, but it’s just quiet enough that it startles Michael and his gaze falls back to Alex.

Alex is still looking up at the sky, and Michael watches as he swallows hard, “But it didn’t matter.”

His gaze drops back to Michael and he seems to be a little surprised to see Michael staring at him as though he forgot that Michael never looks away from him, not when he can’t help it, not when the fire burns so sweetly, warming him from the inside out instead of scorching him until all that’s left is ashes.

“You were always on my mind,” Alex says and it sounds like a benediction.

Michael lets the words reverberate in his head while Alex watches him.

Michael leans back in his chair and nods his head once.

Alex sighs, relieved and looks back up to the sky.

Michael stares at him.

***

That night Michael once again dreams of fire and beacons and explosions so bright and then the total darkness creeping coldly into his chest.

He exhales and the condensation hangs heavy in the air in front of him.

Just when he’s about to give into the cold and close his eyes, he feels a faint warmth like the imprint left behind when someone touches your skin against the back of his neck. A shiver of a touch that makes him turn his head and look back towards where the ashes of the campfire lie.

He feels hope explode bright and warm in his chest as he sees the single line of smoke coming from the still burning embers.

He smiles sighing against the sand and he closes his eyes and he knows that once he manages to make his way back to it, he’ll be able to stoke the sparks into a flame once again.


End file.
